Siblings
by Bellatlas
Summary: Siblings: They drive each other crazy at times, but will always have each other's backs. Ezra, Sabine, and Zeb are no exception. A series of fluffy space siblings fics.
1. Too Colorful

**Chapter one summary: Sabine loves color - she's an artist, after all. But, when she gets migraines, having a neon mural plastered upon every wall of** _ **the**_ _**Ghost**_ **suddenly doesn't seem like such a great idea.**

* * *

Sabine is a very strong person, and a very private one - two things that have not gone unnoticed by Ezra.

So, when Sabine first decides not to go on a mission, and Ezra then finds her splayed out on a chair (apparently asleep) in the common area when he gets back from said mission, he's a bit unnerved, to say the least.

He tiptoes up to her, not quite sure what to make of the unlikely scene. Her brows are pinched together, as if in pain, and if he listens closely, it almost sounds like her breathing is a tad bit more labored than it should be. Is… is she _sick?_

"I'm _fine-_ go away," Sabine says pointedly, eyes flicking open halfway, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Umm… you don't really _look_ fine," Ezra points out tentatively, stepping backwards an inch in anticipation a second before she swings a fist through the air where his side would have been but a moment before- a bit more aggressive than usual.

"I have a headache - lay off." She turns towards the back of the chair and closes her eyes again.

Ezra merely shrugs and goes to sit in Zeb's overly large chair off to the side, seeing as that Sabine's pretty much laying across the entire bench seat. Geez, Ezra could probably use Zeb's chair as a bed if he wanted to. He could probably fit three of himself in it if he curled up into a ball tightly enough.

He decides to use his time to try to think up a way to get Kanan to let him train with his lightsaber rather than meditate tomorrow, but doesn't get very far into his scheming before Chopper rolls by, beeping and whirring something unintelligible, arms twirling about.

Sabine grunts, rather aggravated, and shoots Chopper a dirty look before rubbing her right ear.

"Are you _sure_ you're okay?" Ezra dares to ask again.

"I said I was fine," Sabine snaps.

"Alright, alright." Ezra holds his hands up defensively, though Sabine has pinched her eyes shut again. "Wouldn't your room be quieter, though?" Ezra doesn't mean to rude or make it sound like he doesn't want Sabine around him- quite the opposite is true, but he _does_ have a valid point.

Surprisingly, Sabine doesn't take it the wrong way. "It's too bright in there," she says.

"What?" The whole ship is pretty dark - not depressingly so, but no part of the ship can exactly be considered _bright,_ aside from maybe the cockpit in hyperspace.

"There's paint all over my room," Sabine groans. "It's too bright.

"Oh." He hadn't thought of that. It makes sense though. Sabine's walls are plastered in neon colored graffiti, a checkerboard table serving as the centerpiece of the room, and a rainbow array of paint cans in the corner. While he's never had _migraine_ (only minor headaches that are easy enough to sleep off), he can definitely see how that wouldn't exactly be conducive to getting rid of one.

"Umm… you can stay in my room, you know… if you want, of course," Ezra offers.

Sabine cracks an eye open, gazing at Ezra cooly and deliberating. From down the hall, there's a loud clang, echoing off of the metal ship walls in an endless ring, making her cringe: the regular hustle and bustle of the ship. Still, she doesn't accept.

"Oh c'mon," Ezra pushes. "You'll never get rid of a headache while in _here."_

"Fine," she finally cedes. She's ready to pay money if it means getting rid of this widespread constant throbbing pain at this point.

Ezra nods eagerly and hops up out of Zeb's chair to lead Sabine to his room, happy to be able to help.

Sabine, of course, knows exactly where Ezra and Zeb's room is (it's a few feet away from hers, after all) but is too drained to point this out and just follows wordlessly, shoulders slumped the whole way. She just wants to lay down and for this infernal headache to be _gone_ already.

Zeb looks rather surprised when he finds a clearly pained Sabine following Ezra into their room.

"What-" he starts, before Ezra holds up a hand.

"She has a migraine and the paint in her room is too bright. I told her that she could stay here… if that's okay." Ezra phrases it like he's offering Zeb a choice- he _sounds_ as though he's offering Zeb a choice- but really, he's not. Sabine is going to stay here and that's that.

Zeb opens his mouth to say something, but shrugs and drops the issue. "Yeah, I guess that's fine."

Sabine does her best not to wrinkle her nose when she steps inside, only half succeeding. The smell could only be described as _guys' room:_ musty and sweaty. And when those guys include Ezra and a Lasat, well… it's worse. Ezra snickers at Sabine's face, but isn't offended by it, figuring that she just smells Zeb.

At least it's nice and quiet and dark, though. The only real color in the room is the mural that Sabine oh so tastefully painted on the wall to commemorate Chopper's prank on both Ezra and Zeb back when the kid had first joined the crew. The colors are subdued enough that they don't really bother her.

"Uh, you can take my bunk," Ezra says awkwardly. He's not about to offer Zeb's bunk up for grabs.

Sabine squirms, feeling vastly uncomfortable with this whole general setup, but she's starting to get dizzy and really does just need to lay down for a while.

"Right. Thanks." She climbs up to the top bunk without any further questions.

"Uh, I'll let you be, then," Zeb says, awkwardly shuffling out into the hallway. Sabine closes her eyes, still feeling almost stressfully out of place in someone else's room, and can practically feel Ezra's eyes burning into the back of her head.

"You need anything?" She asks.

"Oh. Umm. No. Just… are migraines really that bad?"

Sabine lifts an eyebrow. Had he never had a bad headache before? "Uh, yeah." She lets out a breathy laugh. "Have you ever known me to skip out on missions?"

"No." It would take more than Ezra can imagine to stop Sabine from fighting the empire, which is precisely what has Ezra worried.

Sabine isn't quite sure why Ezra is still _here_ and _staring_ at her, but she knows better than to say anything after Ezra has been so nice.

"M-maybe I could try to force heal it," Ezra says suddenly, finally spitting out the words that he's been mulling over.

Sabine sits up slowly. "You can do that? I thought that was just for- you know, flesh injuries."

Ezra shrugs. He still has a lot to learn. "I can try. It's worth a shot, isn't it?"

Sabine frowns at the wall. "I don't know. Are you sure that you should be messing around with something that you don't quite understand? What would Kanan say?"

Ezra raises an eyebrow and Sabine sighs in response. He idolizes his master, that much is clear to anyone… but nothing ever quite keeps him from… _bending_ a few rules behind Kanan's back, either. "Do you want your headache to go away or not?"

"Yes," Sabine answers. "I do."

"Alright then." Ezra takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and raises a hand slowly, reaching out in an attempt to force heal. He's read about it, and Kanan's talked about it. He's even healed a few scrapes and bruises on himself in secret- just for practice. This feels like a totally different beast, though. It's not a cut or scrape or wound that he can see.

Sabine sits perfectly still, heart picking up speed in spite of her usual calm as she waits for her migraine to miraculously shrink away. Instead, she's met with a white-hot searing pain behind her eyes and shrieks out as she grabs her head. It feels as if someone has just branded the inside of her head. A blaster bolt would probably hurt less!

Ezra freezes, relinquishing his hold on the force, eyes growing wide at the sound. Slowly, he brings his hands to cover his mouth, horrified. Sabine drops back down into a laying position on the bunk and squeezes her eyes shut.

"Sabine, I am _so_ sorry." He should have just listened to her. He should have just trusted what his gut told him Kanan would have wanted him to do. He shouldn't have tried this. What had he just done?

Sabine manages a curt nod and a forced smile that comes out more like a grimace, eyes still squeezed shut.

"I-" Ezra starts to say something else before pausing and pressing his lips together in a grim line, instead turning and fleeing quickly down the hall.

* * *

Sabine isn't sure how much time has passed when she wakes up- it can be hard to tell when there's no moon or sun, but based on the soft snoring coming from the bunk below her - Zeb, presumably, it must be their self appointed nighttime.

She sits up gingerly, taking care as to not make enough noise to wake Zeb up, and slowly clambers down from the top bunk, landing on the ground with all the finesse of a cat.

Her head still hurts- a dull throb just behind her temples, like always the day after a migraine, but it's at least bearable now.

She slowly makes her way out to the common room. She hadn't meant to sleep for so long as to prevent Ezra from going to bed, only for a few hours. Where is he sleeping? He isn't in _her_ room, is he?

No, when she steps into the common room, Ezra is splayed out on Zeb's chair- one leg and one arm over each arm of the chair, and the remainding arm covering his face. He's fast asleep, mouth wide open. The sight would almost be laughable if it weren't for how uncomfortable the poor kid looks.

"Ezra," Sabine says in a loud whisper, shaking his shoulder slightly.

He startles awake, jumping and making a brief kind of snorting sound before finally closing his mouth. Sabine has to do her best not to laugh.

"Sabine?"

"Hey."

"A- are you okay?" He stumbles over his words, both eager to apologize and tired. "I didn't mean to hurt you, really!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she assures him before Ezra can get too worked up over the matter and wake up the whole ship.

He lets out a pent up breath. "Sorry."

Sabine just shrugs. What's done is done, she supposes. "What _was_ that, though?"

Ezra shrugs in return. "I asked Kanan. He wasn't sure either. He said that maybe I moved your brain or something with the force instead of using it to heal, or that I was focused on your pain or whatnot instead of concentrating. He said that you should be fine, though… and that I'm doing meditation all tomorrow and the day after." Ezra cringes in on himself at the memory. He really thought that he hurt Sabine for a while there.

"Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that you can have your bed back."

Ezra shrugs and curls back up in Zeb's chair. "I'm okay here," he says, closing his eyes again, still tired from being woken up in the middle of a sleep cycle.

"But… come on, that can't be comfortable."

"Mph." Ezra swats the air near Sabine, much like she had done to him earlier. He's too tired to walk to his bunk now.

Sabine sighs and slips away back to Ezra's room, stealing the blanket from the top bunk, and taking it back to the common area to put around Ezra, taking one look back at the scene before leaving to go back to her own cozy room, grinning in spite of herself.

This kid would be the death of them all.

* * *

 **I've heard a lot of requests to make more chapters for my one-shots about space siblings, so I've decided to make a multi-chapter fic dedicated completely to the three.**

 **Also, I'm pretty new to Star Wars, and still have quite a bit that I need to catch up on (not to mention that for this chapter in particular, I don't really get headaches very often) so if you see a mistake, don't hesitate to let me know! :)**

 **If you have the time, reviews always mean the world! I'd also love to hear any ideas for future chapters.**


	2. Quor'sav-fried Steak

**Chapter two summary: Ezra is no cook. In fact, Ezra cooking normally ends in a fire or some sort of explosion. Zeb decides that needs to change - the kid needs to learn this survival skill.**

* * *

The crew had learned pretty early on that Ezra is no cook. In fact, they learned early on to just ban him from trying to cook anything entirely after a bad incident where he tried to heat a metal spoon, which subsequently exploded.

Normally, their little rule against the youngest member of the crew cooking isn't a problem, as the crew doesn't have too much good food lying around anyway, and lives mostly off of ration bars. But, every now and then, Hera will decide to spoil her crew by throwing a few luxury food items onto the shopping list during a supply run.

Zeb wakes the morning after one such supply run to the smell of burning space waffles, and jumps up out of his bunk on instinct. Sure enough, Ezra is awake early and not in his bunk, leaving Zeb to book it down to the kitchen to save his precious space waffles while he still can.

When he finally gets to the kitchen, though, it looks like he's too late. Ezra is cursing a string of words that Zeb wouldn't expect from the boy (and frankly isn't sure he approves of) and holds the toaster upside-down to get the two too-hot-to-grab waffles out. They fall onto the table, blackened, petrified, and charred, along with an array of crumbs from past waffle attempts. The entire heap of inedible waffle is smoking slightly, and Ezra waves a hand over it to get the smoke to disperse before any alarms can go off.

"I thought that we told you to stay out of the kitchen!" Zeb growls. He's not going to let Ezra make another two waffles now that he's here. He had his two, and he burnt them.

"They're just waffles! I thought I had this!"

"Well, you didn't!"

Ezra shoots Zeb a pointed ' _well obviously'_ look that dares him to continue. "Look, let me just clean this up and I'll try again. I'm sure I'll get it this time." He moves to scoop all of the blackened chunks of not-food in arms to take to the trash as Zeb snatches up the box of waffles.

"Oh no. You're not taking extra waffles from the rest of us just because you can't cook and burnt your own."

"Well what do you expect me to eat, then? Air?"

"Eat those." Zeb points towards one of the drawers where they keep their ration bars and goes to plug the toaster back in so that he can _properly_ make _himself_ breakfast. Really, you'd think that after seven years on the streets, the kid would have picked up a survival skill or two when it came to food. Although, he supposes that the focus then would be less on cooking and more on just grabbing whatever you can get your hands on and shoving it in your mouth before it can be taken. Something in Zeb's gut twists at this realization.  
Ezra sends a side-long glance towards the store of fresh, _good_ food that they all now have. But alas, he doesn't know how to cook any of it, and he's never going to be allowed to experiment with it when any of the crew is around.

He rummages around in the drawer for a ration bar and goes to sit across from Zeb at the table, who is still waiting for his waffles to heat, and stares at the unopened package in his hands. Just the thought of another one of these bars- so tasteless and dry, like a ball of sandpaper going down your throat - makes Ezra cringe.

Zeb groans internally, watching the pitiful display Ezra is putting on, and slumps over. "Alright, quit 'yer moping and come here." He stands up and walks over to the food store. Behind him, Ezra slowly rises to his feet and goes to follow, unsure.

"O-kay… what are you doing?"

"I'm gonna teach you how to cook. You're going to make breakfast for the crew."

Ezra looks over all the food, a bit shocked, but doesn't complain if it means that he won't have to eat another ration bar.

"Alright. What are we- _I_ making?"

"You're gonna make a quor'sav-fried steak. Should be big enough for all of us to share." With that, Zeb rummages around in their new food supply and pulls out what might possibly be the largest nerf steak Ezra has ever seen.

"Okay. It's already thawed. Normally, if it were frozen, you'd need to wait for it to melt, but not so much that it's not cold anymore. Are your hands clean?"

Ezra nods, face hardening, perhaps taking Zeb's lesson a bit too seriously.

"Good. Now go get the eggs, pom seed flour, and oil."

"Right." Ezra needs to hop up on the counter to reach the flour and oil in the top cabinets, to which Zeb openly laughs, but Ezra is far too focused to let that get to him. He started out just wanting a nice breakfast for once, but for some reason really wants to _prove_ that he can do this.

"Now," Zeb slides a bowl towards the kid. " _Gently_ crack about four eggs on the rim of the bowl, and then open the egg up over the bowl."

"Like this?" He taps the egg against the bowl, and it's barely enough to make a dent.

Zeb rolls his eyes. "A _little_ harder."

Ezra slams the egg down, and it bursts open, only half of it actually making its way into the bowl. The remaining half is dripping in a thick goo off of Ezra's sleeve.

" _Not that hard!"_

Ezra cringes from the feeling of egg on his arm. "Sorry."

Zeb sighs. "Ugh. Okay, try again."

By the fourth egg, Ezra is pretty sure that he's got this, and Zeb doesn't interject with some snide comment about actually getting the egg _in the bowl_ or keeping the eggshell out of it.

Whisking the eggs is another battle, and by the time _that's_ done, Ezra has spilled enough of the egg that they need to add another.

"It'll be lunch time by the time we're done," Zeb quips when it looks they're finally through with the eggs. "Nevermind that, the meat is going to rot before you're done learning how to cook something."

"I'm sorry, I'm doing my best!"

"That's what worries me."

Ezra shoots Zeb a glare. "Just tell me what to do next, alright?"

"Next, you coat the steak in the egg there. You could dip it in if it were smaller, but I'd use one of the brushes in the drawer there."

Ezra does exactly as he's instructed, and dips the brush into the bowl of egg. The sticky yolks roll off of the brush and Ezra struggles to get it to stay on, but aside from dripping egg in the counter space between the bowl and the raw steak, does a fairly decent job.

"Done!" he announces proudly.

Zeb raises an eyebrow. "No catastrophes?"

"...No," Ezra almost growls, earning a barking laugh from the lasat.

"Alright, then we're almost done. Now just dust some flour over the steak and- not that much!" Zeb shouts abruptly when Ezra nearly pours the whole bag over on top of the steak. " _Dust_ the flour."

Ezra tilts the bag back and grabs a handful, gracefully letting flour fall through his fingers onto the steak.

"Good. Normally you'd roll that in a bowl of flour too, but like I said, this steak is too big. Now all you have to do is cook it."

Zeb is strict with supervision over this part- as the _cooking_ part normally equates to the _fire and explosion_ part with Ezra, and shows him how to set the frier and how to tell when the steak is done.

"Smell that?" Zeb asks.

Ezra sniffs the air- thick purely with the aroma of savory food. "Mhmm." Ezra's mouth is already watering.

"When it smells like that, that's how you know it's ready." He closes his large eyes and takes a nose-full of it in, grinning. Just to double check, though, he cuts it open, right through the middle. It's a perfect medium-well. Zeb prefers his steaks a little rarer, but this will do.

"Is it okay?" Ezra asks, peeking over at his creation, not quite sure what to look for. He's more so trying to judge Zeb's reaction than the quality of his food, though.

"Yep. You did good, kid."

Ezra smiles and beams quietly. It's just in time, too, as the crew normally starts waking up right about now. Not a moment too soon, Hera jogs into the kitchen in a hurry, still in her sleepwear, Sabine following in a similar outfit, albeit walking a bit more casually.

"Come for breakfast?" Zeb offers, starting to slice up the huge steak into portions for the crew to eat.

Hera shakes her head. "I smelled something burning."

Ezra lets out an indignant "hmph," as he thought that his cooking turned out perfectly fine, only to realize that Hera isn't looking at the steak. She's looking at… the toaster. The toaster where Zeb had put two waffles in and forgotten to take them out. It's set on low, which is probably why it took them so long to burn, but sure enough, thin trails of smoke rise up from the blackened triangles in the toaster. How Hera smelled the smoke before Zeb, Ezra can't quite figure out.

Zebs eyes widen in realization, and he quickly looks down to Ezra, who is in turn looking back up at him with a devious grin.

Oh no. He's never living this one down.

* * *

 **So I've been doing some research, and while Quor'sav steak isn't listed as something that humans eat, it's made from a nerf steak and other ingredients, which humans do eat, so I figured that this was feasible enough.**

 **For those of you who want more brotherly/sisterly fics, I took FarmerGirl55's advice (thank you FarmerGirl55 ;)) and** **started a new community called "Space Siblings" where I've been collecting them. Don't feel obligated to follow, but if you want to check it out, you can find it on my page.  
**

 **Thank you for the wonderful suggestions for future chapters (which I would still love to hear) and, thank you all so much for all of your kind reviews on chapter one! Each and every one truly meant the world to me. Thank you so much!**


	3. Not a Stormtrooper

**Summary: Sabine was a student at the imperial academy, taking orders blindly. Sometimes, she needs to prove to herself that she's different now.**

* * *

It's rare that Zeb can't sleep. Every now and then, he'll hear Ezra tossing and turning above him, as apparently trouble sleeping is a normal human thing, but never Zeb. Hera has a short sleep cycle as a twi'lek, and normally wakes up long before the rest of the crew, but Zeb will sleep until someone works up the courage to wake him up.

Tonight is a rare night, though. Tonight, he can't sleep. It's a rather odd feeling- not being able to lapse into sleep despite any exhaustion level, but nevertheless, here he is. He wonders idly if _this_ is what it feels like to be human. If so, he's rather happy that he's a lasat.

After lying on the bed looking up at the top bunk and listening to Ezra's almost inaudible soft snores for almost two hours, he figures that he just has to accept the fact that he's not getting back to sleep anytime soon. Might as well make a cup of caff and get started on the day's chores. If he gets them all done by morning, maybe he'll be allowed to go back to bed early when he's more likely to fall asleep.

When he's halfway down the hallway, though, he nearly runs straight into Sabine. She's already in her decorative armor, despite it being the middle of the night, and nearly spills her own mug of caff when she has to stop short.

"Zeb?" She asks, stilling her mug. "What are _you_ doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep," he shrugs. He looks down at Sabine's hands around the cup, smeared with a layer of green paint that's only partially been wiped away. "Painting again?"

She's silent for a second, looking down at the green paint on her fingers. "Yeah," she says finally.

"What're ya painting?"

She's silent for a second. "A forest… can't quite get it right, though." She steps around Zeb and continues on her way to her room.

"Maybe I can help," Zeb offers. "Fresh perspective and all."

Sabine stops, looking back at him, calculating.

Zeb has heard Hera talking to Kanan about this sometimes. When she's up at ridiculous hours of the morning, she'll find sabine come out of her room with all of her armor on, grab a cup of caff, and retreat to her room, coming out stinking of paint fumes by morning. He has to say, he's curious now.

"Alright," Sabine cedes, surprising them both.

Zeb turns and follows Sabine to her room. She's painted over a large section of the metal wall with a light gray to serve as a canvas for the new piece. Towards the top, she's already painted what looks like the emerald green leaves that balloon out from the top of a tall tree canopy, though most of the tree trunks remain unpainted. Zeb looks over it.

"I don't see what you need help with. Looks good to me."

Sabine steps back, chin in hand, and squints at the unfinished piece. "No… it's missing something."

Zeb can't understand exactly what she's seeing. It looks pristine to him.

"There needs to be more… maybe some animals… a colorful bird, or a snake, or a wild cat of some sort? What do you think?"

Zeb continues to stare at the leaves. "Uh… I don't know. It looks perfect to me."

" _That's_ the problem," she says, pointing a finger at Zeb, though there's no malice behind it. "It can't be perfect. It has to be wild… untamed. We're going to go with all three animals."

Zeb leans against the wall and watches as Sabine goes to work. There's something surreal about how passionate she is, how focused.

"Wait, don't lean there!" she shouts when she turns and sees him, far too late.

"Huh?" He pulls away from the wall, only to see a red circle with a slash through it printed onto his arm

Sabine cringes. "Sorry… wet paint."

Zeb sighs. That's going to take forever to get out.

He then looks all around the room. Little red circles with slashes through them are painted all over the room, each one over a stormtrooper helmet. Some are new, shining with wet paint, and some are old and faded, barely visible. They're everywhere. A realization dawns on him.

"Why are you even up this early, Sabine?"

She replies without missing a beat. "Couldn't sleep. Same as you."

"You sure hate stormtroopers, don't you?"

Sabine pauses, the hissing of her spray paint can abruptly falling silent. "You could say that."

"Is that what you were training to be?" he asks. "A storm trooper? At the imperial academy?"

Her hand twitches and Zeb thinks that she'll kick him out for a moment.

"Yeah," she says, voice level and plain. "It was."

He knows that he should probably stop prying (Sabine can't stand prying) but he plunges forward anyway. "Your room is a nice contrast, at least."

"That's the idea."

She steps back from the wall she's working on to examine it, having the whole tropical forest made now. Plants spill out from everywhere, hardly any light managing to penetrate the thick canopy leaves. Most everything is a deep green, but a few vibrant orange or purple plants spill out of the brush.

"Was it bad there?" He dares ask.

Sabine pauses again, but it's not as abrupt or annoyed as last time. It's more of a thoughtful pause. She pauses as she thinks of a response.

"Honestly? No."

Zeb's taken by surprise, to say the least. The few times the imperial academy has been brought up, a certain gleam in her eye and set of her mouth expressed so much hatred towards it that even Zeb would be afraid to approach her.

"Well, yes and no," Sabine goes on to say. "They treated us alright, I guess, that wasn't the bad part. But, we were all the same. We had the same uniform, same code for how our hair was supposed to look… and we all _thought_ the same. Nobody thought for themselves; we were just mindless drones…" A shudder runs down her spine, and Zeb grimaces as well. The thought of Sabine without all of her creative spunkiness… well, it isn't _Sabine._

"Well… at least you're here now."

"Yeah." She yawns into her sleeve, and for the first time, Zeb notices the bags under her eyes.

"You should really get some sleep, you know."

"Have to finish this first," she says, eyes not leaving the painting.

Zeb groans. She'll be exhausted tomorrow.

"Sabine, I know it's important and all, but can't you finish it tomorrow?"

" _No!"_

Zeb looks out at the painting of the rainforest on the wall, the exact opposite of the strict and sterile environment that Sabine had just described. "Look, I know that this is probably about the imperial academy, and that this is your way of getting it out, but you're _here now._ Hera has a mission for you tomorrow, and-"

"That's not it," she interrupts.

"What?"

"That's not it. I _know_ that I'm here now."

"Then… then why is it so important that you paint now?"

Sabine pauses, always being the last one to open up about anything. "Do you-" she pauses, closing her mouth again. "You don't think I'm still like that, do you?"

Zeb compares the scene that Sabine just described to him to everything in front of him: the art, the checkerboard table, the slashes over the stormtrooper helmets, Sabines swirled decorative armor, her vivid blue and green hair…

"No. Not in the slightest."

She relaxes a bit. "Good."

"Is _that_ what you're worried about?" Zeb can't imagine why on earth this would be a concern to her. She's _nothing_ like a stormtrooper in training.

"I know it's stupid," she says, hugging her arms, "but…" But sometimes, she needed to prove that to herself.

"Could be worse," Zeb adds. "You could want to go back, and can't."

Sabine's face scrunches up. "Why would I _ever_ want to- oh." She looks up at Zeb, eyes saddened, when she finally hears the hidden message in his words. "I'm sorry, Zeb."

He shrugs. "Not much we can do about it now."

"... Is that why _you're_ still up now?"  
"Maybe…" He hadn't gone to bed with Lasan on his mind, but normally when he can't sleep, he'll find the back of his mind dwelling on it, missing it, even when he doesn't realize it.

Sabine moves slowly and silently, going to pick up a paintbrush for the finer details of her mural. "Do you wish you were still the same? Or wish you were different from back then?"

Zeb thinks for a moment. "I've tried to forget most of it, honestly," he sighs, squirming awkwardly. "I guess I'd rather be the same, but I can be only be the same with Lasan, and _that's_ not happening, so…"

Silence

"Maybe there's an in-between," Sabine suggests, voice calculated. "A little bit of both."

Zeb turns the idea over his mind and nods slowly, though Sabine doesn't see it. He thinks he likes this idea: remembering the good along with the bad and using both as fuel.

" _Anyway,_ you're not like a stormtrooper, so you can go back to bed now."

"No can do," Sabine says, intent on finishing the mural before going back to sleep. "But if you want me to finish faster, you could always pick up a brush and help."

Zeb groans, but complies. "Fine. What do you want me to paint?"

"Anything you think fits… but _don't_ mess it up."

Zeb frowns and stares, finally dipping his brush into the light beige paint off to the side, and dabbing an array of brown specks atop the forest floor- a layer of dust, just like that on lasan. This can be a place that they can both run away to when thoughts of the past come chasing them during the nighttime hours.

* * *

 **Chapter brought to you by a suggestion from Firehawk720! Thank you so much! This is also somewhat of a sequel to "When The Lights Go On"**

 **I apologize for the delay. I normally meet up with my writing buddies on Tuesday afternoons and write my chapters then, but those meetings are canceled for last week and next week. Also, if any of you are interested in my original writing, I've started a story on wattpad and the link is on my page.**

 **Thank you all for all of your wonderful reviews!**


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